Work Text:
If Coco takes one more step towards him, Agott swears her stomach will cinch into a permanent knot. Normally upon seeing Coco, there’s a pleasant swoop in her belly—one that Agott at first hoped was a one-off occurrence. (It wasn’t. Instead, it became an autonomic response to Coco’s presence, sometimes even at the mere mention of her name.)
Now though, as Coco sways dangerously into Tartah’s personal space with her signature grin spreading impossibly wider, nothing is pleasant about the way Agott feels. Bitter bile bubbles in her gut, reaching a boil that scorches the edges of Agott’s wildly beating heart. Unconsciously, she clutches her dress just below her collarbone and forces herself to remain upright.
It didn’t make any sense. This is how Coco acts with her friends all the time, especially ones as cherished as Tartah—who’s come out to visit her for the evening. Agott has seen this same scene play out a dozen times over and never once has she behaved like this. However, all those other times took place before Agott cared enough to react.
That was also before Agott discovered her capital-p Problem.
Agott hasn’t so much as noticed anyone else for a lot of her life—everything passed by in a narrow sighted focus that she’s recently been chipping away at, widening it bit by bit. As a result, The Problem presents itself like this:
Agott has never had a crush before. She’s never looked at anyone, really. But now that she’s trying to fix her mindset and become more dependent on those that care for her, she can’t seem to stop looking…and she has no earthly idea what it means.
It starts with sporadic thoughts that she could brush off. A quiet evening settles over the atelier with only a calming crackle of fire that does little to conceal Tetia’s hushed giggles. Agott rolls her eyes and places a thumb over her place in her book, a pointed question about what could possibly be so funny about potion theory. But as her head tilts, Agott gives pause.
Like a veil finally slipping off, it feels as if Agott gets a clear picture of her friend for the very first time. Tetia’s profile comes into focus, a smile curves her lips and her hair cascades, loose, around her shoulders. From her peripheral, Agott can see that Tetia is trying to read her book upside-down, yet Agott can’t seem to draw her gaze away from the slope of Tetia’s nose.
It’s…really cute. Her nose is. No, that’s not quite right. Tetia’s nose is indeed cute with the way it upturns at the end but it also just…suits her well?
Agott scrambles for the proper wording when Tetia notices the gaze that’s on her. She turns. Surprisingly, when their eyes catch each other, Tetia doesn’t say a word, only gives Agott a toothless smile that squints her eyes into crescent shapes.
Ah, Agott thinks, quickly averting her gaze and practically shoving her nose into her book to hide the pink on her cheeks. It’s Tetia that’s cute.
A similar occurrence happens soon after while they’re all in lessons with Professor Qifrey. Riche asks for help with one of her spells (a development that causes pride to swell up in Agott’s chest). Agott only meant to glance at her, so as not to intrude on her moment with the professor and then her gaze sticks to the smudge of ink above Riche’s eyebrow.
Once again, Agott feels as if she’s looking at her friend for the very first time. Riche’s expression is as serene as it can get, even with that little black line staining her pale skin. She presents her glyph to the professor with her small hands before taking a step back and blowing air up, so it ruffled her bangs.
Cute, cute, cute.
Agott forces her head to swivel away. The weight of her thoughts—all directed at Riche’s disheveled bangs and delicate fingers—wobble the lines of her next two glyphs.
Surely this will go away, Agott comforts herself when she notices how long Sinocia’s eyelashes are (long enough to brush over the top of her cheekbone, in case someone is wondering).
It’s probably because I didn’t pay enough attention before, Agott surmises when she notes how a bead of sweat traces Ermile’s jawline after lifting something particularly heavy (Agott can’t recall what it was).
Just wait it out, Agott thinks when Alaira’s laughter rings, loud and brassy, and continues to reverberate in Agott’s ears the rest of the day (it’s too distracting for her liking).
Agott concedes when she trips over her own feet in the middle of the street after an Unknowing girl grins at her passing. The embarrassment from that incident, where Tetia laughed at her outright and Riche said aloud that she was amused, is enough to propel Agott’s mind into a spiral.
The longer she thinks, the faster her thoughts go, becoming frenzied as they pick up speed. Attraction is a foreign concept—she’s always been aware that people can be aesthetically and objectively beautiful, but it’s an entirely unfamiliar sensation for Agott to think someone is pretty to her, for girls to be pretty to her.
So Agott does the safest thing she can think to do.
She avoids looking at girls entirely.
Riche and Tetia are safe. After Agott’s initial realization and subsequent acceptance of ‘wow, yeah, my friends are really, really cute and that’s okay’ their friendship resettled into its previous groove—only now Agott can note to herself when they’re being particularly pretty.
Coco, on the other hand, is not safe. Not even the tiniest bit.
Even before The Problem began, Coco’s existence was…noisy already. Agott’s never felt like there was a veil over Coco to begin with—her blazing smile would shine right through immediately, even if there had been. Agott’s quiet and bitter existence was touched by the brightest and most brilliant of stars, so it’s only natural for her to be unable to look for long. It’s as if a sporadic magnet spins from the center of Agott’s chest and draws her into Coco’s orbit, spinning around her in a helpless waltz. This is precisely why, even without Agott turning her gaze in her direction, Coco burns herself into her life. This is also why a branch of the original problem begins to stem off.
The Problem reshapes itself like this:
Agott has never had a crush before. And she thinks her feelings for Coco could possibly be her first one.
She knows that Coco is pretty. She knows that if she looks at Coco that a million little endearing details will sear into the backs of her eyelids. She knows that her heart will drum in a crisp staccato beat that rings in her ears and reverberates in her bones. She knows that it won’t be as easily glossed over as when it happened with any other girl.
Because Coco isn’t any other girl. Coco is the one Agott wants to draw magic for, the one she wants to get better for. Coco isn’t a girl that’s prettiness stops below her skin. Neither are Tetia or Riche, it’s only that…Coco is just…different. Somehow. Agott isn’t sure how it happened.
And now, after weeks of avoiding it, Agott is looking at Coco. She’s looking and her torso fills with two simultaneous feelings of awe and nausea. The lightest constellation of freckles dust over the bridge of her nose, illuminated by the dusky lantern Tartah presents to her. Her smile crinkles the corners of her twinkling eyes and a slight dimple indents into her right cheek. A newly calloused hand tucks an errant piece of her hair behind her ear.
Coco is the most gorgeous person Agott has ever seen. And in the same moment that realization dawns, it hits her that Coco may not ever see Agott like that—not like Agott sees her. And Agott can’t blame her for it either.
Her ribcage constricts, caging her lungs and heart as they seize in on themselves. It’s one thing to grasp that she likes girls, likes Coco, but the unrequitedness of the situation is too much for her to handle.
Agott takes a blind step backwards. Everyone else gathers in a circle around a cluster of warming stones, giggling as fireflies flutter around their shoulders. Agott stands outside the ring of her friends and loved ones, not even sure how she got here while spectating them as she collapses in on herself like an imploding black hole.
Another step but this time she bumps into something solid and squeaks. A hand hotter than a brand settles on her arm to help her gain her balance in a surprisingly gentle gesture. “Careful now,” the deep voice of Professor Oru rumbles. He sounds like he just woke up (he probably did, if Agott knows him).
“Sorry…” she mutters.
From her peripheral, she sees Professor Oru narrow his eyes at her. His hand moves from her arm to her hair and gives it a fond pat. “What are you doing all the way out here?”
“Nothing,” Agott says quickly—too quickly if Professor’s eyebrow raise is anything to go by. She winces at herself. “Needed some space, I guess.”
Professor Oru hums in thought and stares at the group of people in front of them. He lets several beats pass before his hand slips off her head and crosses his arms. “I understand. Do you want me to leave you alone then?”
Agott holds her tongue before the automated response of “yes” can slip past. Once she’s sure she has a firm grasp on her next words, she says, “No, it’s…fine. If you stay. I wouldn’t mind. Unless you want to join them.”
“Nah.” Professor Oru gracefully slides to the ground and crosses his ankles while leaning back on his palms. “I’m okay with watching with you for a while.”
Agott curls into a ball next to him, knees pressed to her chest and chin resting on them. “Okay.”
“Alright.”
The sting doesn’t leave her completely but it at least begins to dull into a bruising ache after several silent minutes with Professor Oru. His presence is quiet but carries the same temperate warmth that emanates from a snugstone. It lulls Agott’s unsteady heart into a security—one where it’s allowed to hurt in the comfortable space between them.
After Agott loses count of the clock ticks, Professor Olruggio sighs. “Somethin’ bothering you?”
She bites the inside of her lip. “I…I don’t know.”
Another hum. “That’s alright. But it’s also alright if somethin’ is wrong.”
Agott knows that it’s okay as long as she’s here. She’s safe. She can talk to Professor Oru if she wants. Or she doesn’t have to. She could just sit here with him until everyone separates for the night. However…she thinks that maybe Professor Oru will understand. He always seems to, in a weird way, get her. Perhaps it’s because they’re both failed prodigies. Or, even subtracting their similarities, Professor Oru wants to understand her the same way she wants to understand him.
She presses her lips into a thin line. “I know that. I think—mm, I’m certain that I like…girls. I’m much less certain if—ahem, girls would like…me.”
Professor Oru nods along, even as she embarrassingly stumbles over her sentences. “What isn’t there to like about you?”
“I…” Agott, once again, fumbles for proper words. “I’m not…”
Good enough. Especially not for her.
“I see,” Professor Oru interrupts, as if reading her mind. “That way of thinking leads to a dead end. Maybe you aren’t who you want to be, but you’re trying, right? That’s more than most already.”
“But what if trying still isn’t enough?” Agott whispers in retort. They've seen each other at an extreme low, Coco drenched in her own despair and Agott in her spite, but she can’t stand the thought disappointing Coco in any capacity.
Professor’s eyes glass over, becoming so distant in that instant that Agott’s stomach drops out. He returns to himself soon after but Agott frowns. “I wish I knew the answer to that. It won’t be for…some people. But you have to trust, Agott—both others and yourself. Trust means nothing if you don’t have it and everything if you do.”
Trust? That she’s enough like she is? That seems farfetched but also…like something she should listen to. The first step is to trust that she’s good enough for Coco to even possibly feel the same.
She can’t help but blurt, “Do you really think she could like me?”
Because at the end of the day, that’s what all this boils down to, doesn’t it? A childish need to be liked by the pretty girl whose smile reminds Agott of luminescent flowers in a darkened forest.
Professor Oru doesn’t treat it as immature or absurd as Agott thinks it is. In fact, he genuinely considers her words, turns them over in his head to formulate a proper response. Agott waits in anticipation—Professor Oru is the only adult that Agott thinks would not lie to her and is probably incapable of it in the first place.
“I don’t doubt that it’s possible for a single second,” Professor Oru states, matter of fact and open. “I do think you should talk to her though. If it’s awkward for a few days, that’s nothing the two of you can’t handle.”
Agott’s shoulders slowly begin to ease from their tense state. Talking to Coco…hm, that’s rather intimidating compared to speaking with Professor Oru about it. However, he’s always had good judgement. (“Good” captures her professor quite well actually.)
Despite how intimidated she is by the idea, Agott nods. The hand returns to her head, ruffling the fluffy curls until they stick out at odd angles. “Don’t stress about it too much. You’re young and nothing has to be perfect the first time. ‘Perfect’ doesn’t exist, but Agott does.”
“Right,” Agott mutters, batting his arm away from her. “I get it.”
“Okay,” he says. He believes her and says nothing more about it. “Either go in and get some rest or join us. You don’t have to speak or anything…but there’s no use in catching a cold for the sake of alone time.”
Professor Oru turns on his heel and lazily saunters away. He also mutters something under his breath but it’s too quiet for her to string the syllables together coherently. Agott watches him for a few clock ticks, sees him sidle up against Professor Qifrey, casually link their pinkies together and receive a wildflower smile in response.
Agott’s gaze flicks back to where Coco and Tartah huddle together—this time she locks on Tartah. His expression is noticeably lighter and cheeks considerably redder than normal as he tells a story with animated hands. He’s equally wrapped up in his story as he is in watching Coco’s reaction to it. Agott wishes she could hear what he’s saying. He may not have the same blinding light as Coco but he’s still bright and Agott has a respect for him—considers that she could call him a friend if they talked more.
More than anything, she recognizes that expression on his face. The nervous squiggle of his mouth as Coco laughs, the soft blush coating his cheekbones, the unbearable fondness radiating from his face…he’s the same as Agott. He looks at Coco with the same hyper-focus and attention to every detail. They feel the same way about her and he most likely shares similar worries as she does.
Agott sucks in a slow breath in and holds it, briefly, before releasing it. That…doesn’t bother her as much as she thought it might. Of course, there’s a slight twinge of jealousy, worry that she might not measure up to him, but it’s…manageable. It doesn’t weigh on her. Instead, she remembers what Professor Oru said.
I have time to get it right. She’s not going anywhere and neither am I.
A sense of stability grounds her to the earth and she takes in another deep breath.
Agott likes Coco. She has a massive crush on one of her closest and prettiest friends and that’s not going to end the world. Agott can look and notice and blush as much as she wants and it won’t change who they are to each other, to an extent. At the end of the day, Agott will still be Agott and Coco will still be Coco. And Agott thinks that’s plenty at the moment.
Coco lets out a snort so loud that Agott can hear it. Agott smiles then takes a first, resounding step towards Coco.